


Ruching

by IntoTheRiverStyx



Series: Requests/challenges/etc [3]
Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: Canon Era, M/M, Reincarnation, Smut, the server made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-23 14:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23146060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntoTheRiverStyx/pseuds/IntoTheRiverStyx
Summary: Ruching - noun. a strip of pleated lace, net, muslin, or other material for trimming or finishing a dress, as at the collar or sleeves
Relationships: Galehaut/Lancelot du Lac
Series: Requests/challenges/etc [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1673452
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Ruching

**Author's Note:**

> It's just porn, y'all

_Galehaut had left the feast early, the victory party too loud and the parade of Lancelot in that fucking dress too much._

_He'd retired to their room with little more than enough food to keep him sated until morning and very few good nights offered to the others._

_The room was chilly with the fall's cold starting to seep through the stone walls, but his frustration kept his blood pumping and body more than warm enough._

_When the door opened, he didn't need to look up to know who it was._

_Lancelot was the only one who knew how to open that thing without it making a sound until it hit the wall._

_“Galehaut?” Lancelot's voice was cautious, too sober and too somber for coming back from a post-tournament feast._

_“Lance,” Galehaut's single words was more a sharp intake of air._

_“Is everything okay?” Lancelot let the door close with less care, the hinges loud enough for half the hall to hear._

_Galehaut hadn't realized – hadn't thought – Lancelot would be worried he'd be upset._

–

**From:Lance 4:43PM 03/03/2021**

**I'm home early.**

Galehaut had read and reread the text no fewer than thirty times between the time he received it and the time he pulled into their driveway. Forty-five minutes was a long time to wait to see what was going on.

Their memories had been coming back in fits and starts, some wonderful, some horrifying, all bridging their past and present together into something more cohesive.

Lancelot was an anchor that held against any storm, for him.

He nearly dropped his keys trying to unlock the bolt lock.

“Lance?” he called into the house.

“Upstairs!” Lancelot's voice came from somewhere on the second story.

Galehaut's heart took a few beats to find its rhythm again.

–

_“Oh, Lance,” Galehaut's face fell, “Everything's okay, really.”_

_Lancelot's frown was barely visible in the low light, but Galehaut caught it anyways._

_Lancelot started fighting with the closures on the dress._

_Galehaut crossed the room in record time, stilling the other man's hands._

_“Don't,” Galehaut's command came out as a single, broken syllable._

_“Gale, what?” Lancelot looked up, finally, and saw Galehaut's expression, “ **Oh.** ”_

_“Yeah,” Galehaut said with a shaky laugh._

–

Galehaut took the stairs two at a time, shedding shoes and suit jacket and tie as he went. The carelessness would have bothered him any other day, but not tonight.

Not when Lancelot had taken off work early to do...whatever he hadn't even come downstairs for.

“Lance?” Galehaut called again once he was at the top of the stairs.

“Gale!” Lancelot called back.

Galehaut tuned into the sound and forced himself not to run down the short hallway.

–

_”Let me,” Galehaut told him._

_“Yeah,” Lancelot nodded, “please.”_

_Galehaut guided him to their bed, carefully, almost as if he expected Lancelot to bolt or change his mind._

_Galehaut tightened his grip on Lancelot's wrist, barely conscious of the action._

_Lancelot let out a whine._

_“Shit, Lance, I'm so -”_

_“Don't be,” Lancelot cut him off, “Gods, don't be.”_

_It took Galehaut a moment, but he understood._

_He gripped harder and asked, “How rough?”_

_“I want everything,” Lancelot told him._

_Galehaut threw Lancelot onto the bed by his wrist._

–

Galehaut had a few different scenarios he expected to walk into, but his partner in a dress was not one of them.

Memory reverberated through him, shook him like an earthquake. He stood and stared long enough that Lancelot tilted his head with a silent question.

“Good boy,” Galehaut finally said something.

It was Lancelot's turn for his heart to skip a few beats.

–

_Galehaut wasted no time pouncing on Lancelot, knees landing to either side of the champion's thighs._

_“You have no idea how fucking good you look in that,” Galehaut growled._

_“Starting to get the picture,” Lancelot said with something caught between a laugh and a plea._

_“I'm not sure you are,” Galehaut started ruching up the dress to expose Lancelot's legs, to give himself easier access._

_“No hose,” Galehaut said, “fuck.”_

_“Seemed unneeded,” Lanceot finally reached up to touch Galehaut, hands unsteady, “definitely unneeded.”_

_Galehaut purred as he ran one hand up the inside of Lancelot's thigh, light, teasing. Lancelot whined – a sound Galehaut knew he would only ever make for him._

_“Champion,” Galehaut said, “gods and angels, if the court could see their champion like this.”_

_Lancelot made a sound almost like a single-syllable laugh, squirming, trying to get more of Galehaut on him, against him, into him._

_“Patience,” Galehaut told him, “patience.”_

–

Galehaut had Lancelot on his back and the dress bunched around his waist in the span of a single breath.

“You remember,” Lancelot said, awe and relief flooding his senses.

“Some memories need a visual trigger,” Galehaut murmured, “but gods, do I remember.”

Lancelot had the audacity too look pleased with himself.

Galehaut realized, belatedly, that he was still wearing most of his suit. He sat up to begin to remedy that.

Lancelot sat up as well, taking care with each of the shirt buttons while Galehaut shed his belt and undid his slacks.

Galehaut shrugged off his shirt once Lancelot had finished with the buttons.

Neither of them had the patience for any more clothing removal.

–

_Galehaut took his time, admiring every curve of Lancelot's legs and hips the dress brought out, reveling in the sounds he drew out of the other man._

_“Galehaut,” Lancelot begged._

_“Fuck,” Galehaut felt he'd come undone if Lancelot said his name like that again._

_“Please,” Lancelot grabbed for Galehaut's arm, the closest thing he could reach._

_It wasn't much better, for Galehaut, in terms of keeping himself together long enough to make anything last, but it was a small mercy._

_“Everything?” Galehaut asked._

_“Everything,” Lancelot nodded._

__–_ _

__“Lance,” Galehaut hissed as he flipped Lancelot onto all fours._ _

__“Don't you dare hold back on me,” Lancelot said, half commanding, half pleading._ _

__Galehaut let out something that sounded like a scoff before leaning forward, flattening Lancelot against the mattress, to fish a bottle of lube from the nightstand drawer._ _

__–_ _

_Galehaut took his time, coaxing Lancelot into such a compliant state – the champion's legs spread wide, hands clutching at the bedding, head thrown back and vocal cords testing the outer limits of both pitch and volume._

_Somewhere along the line, Galehaut had managed to divest himself of his own clothing, the dress smooth against his bare skin._

_Lancelot had excellent taste._

_“So perfect,” Galehaut told him._

_Lancelot found words well beyond his reach._

\--

Galahaut bottomed out inside of Lancelot, hitting that spot so perfectly Lancelot screamed. 

“Gale!” Lancelot panted, “Fuck, gods, Gale.” 

Galehaut had Lancelot's hips in such a firm grip he was sure there would be bruises later. 

“Good?” Galehaut asked. 

Lancelot nodded. 

“Need to hear it,” Galehaut forced himself still and waited. 

“Good, yes, green, gods, don't just sit there,” Lancelot said as if it was all one word. 

Galehaut wasn't one to refuse one of Lancelot's requests, especially not one so deeply person and made in such a way. 

He set a near-punishing pace, only dimly aware he, too, was panting and begging. 

__–_ _

_Galehaut, sure he'd prepared Lancelot well enough, entire hand slick with oil, coaxed Lancelot's legs onto his shoulders._

_He eased himself into Lancelot, taking so much care and gauging his lover's reactions, careful not to slip._

_“Gale,” Lancelot was never above begging._

_“Easy, easy love,” Galehaut said despite his own eagerness, “I've got you.”_

_“Always,” Lancelot said effortlessly._

_Galehaut had his arms wrapped around Lancelot's legs to steady the both of them._

_“Touch yourself,” Galehaut's command was firm but the words them selves were unsteady at best._

_Lancelot did._

_If Lancelot gave a relieved sigh when Galehaut started to thrust, they were too far gone to notice. ___

_–_

Galehaut, despite his best efforts, came first with a shout, so deep inside of Lancelot they weren't sure where one ended and the other began.

“Lance,” He reached around to grab Lancelot's cock and began to stroke. 

Lancelot keened and pressed against him, desperate and hungry. 

It didn't take much effort before Lancelot came, a sharp cry and a shudder against Galehaut's form. 

Lancelot let himself sink into the mattress, exhausted, nerves singing and vision not quite in focus. 

Galehaut pressed himself against Lancelot, resting his full weight on his partner. 

“Holy shit,” Galehaut said. 

Lancelot made a noise of agreement but could not manage words. 

_–_

_Lancelot came with a shout that, later, they would wonder exactly how many of the others had heard._

_Galehaut was not far behind, his last thrusts more spasms than controlled measures._

_Galehaut was able to ease Lancelot's legs back to the bed before he let himself fall onto all fours and then laid on top of Lancelot._

_Lancelot made a pleased sound and raised a hand to card it through Galehaut's hair._

_“I love you,” Galehaut told him._

_“And I you, my sweet, sweet Galehaut,” Lancelot's breathing had not quite evened back out._

_–_

Once he felt capable, Galehaut removed himself from the bed to go get a damp washcloth. 

Lancelot whined and reached out in the direction he felt Galehaut go. 

“Just a moment,” Galehaut assured him, “need something to clean us both up with.” 

He returned with a damp cloth and a dry one and set to carefully cleaning them both up as to not do any more damage to the comforter. 

As soon as he was done he chucked both of them in the general direction of the laundry hamper. 

He laid back down next to Lancelot. Lancelot made a pleased sound and shifted to be as close to Galehaut as possible. 

Galehaut gathered Lancelot in his arms, tucked the top of Lancelot's head under his chin, and closed his eyes. 

_–_

_Galehaut and Lancelot spent the rest of the night curled into each other. Lancelot was nearly asleep when he caught Galehaut beginning to snore._

_“Mine,” he told Galehat, “until the end of all things, mine._


End file.
